


Poetry Cycle

by elaine



Category: due South
Genre: Filk, M/M, Poetry, Slash, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-11
Updated: 1999-04-11
Packaged: 2018-11-10 20:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: Four poems: Hiatus, The Undiscovered Country, Afterward, Morning.





	Poetry Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Hiatus

# Hiatus

In the relentless heat   
of a Chicago summer.  
Two men,  
standing,  
face to face.  
The shock  
of realisation tingling,  
electric,  
between them.  
Each waiting,   
hoping the other   
will speak  
the words.  
Fearing,  
wanting,  
knowing  
the inescapable truth.  


# The Undiscovered Country

The tide of passion   
has brought them here   
and now,   
stranded,   
they hesitate.  
Each of them more naked than he has ever been.  
There are no maps   
or compasses to guide them   
through these uncharted realms.  
No promises of a safe journey.  
But then a touch,   
feather-light,   
an act of faith.  
And together   
they explore   
the undiscovered country.  


# Afterward

Afterward,   
lying in the narrow bed,   
limbs entangled,   
the breeze like warm silk   
on sweat slick skin,   
the words,   
set free at last,   
a whispered caress.   
Lying in his lovers arms,   
he discovers joy. 

# Morning 

In the grey morning light,   
pacing,  
softly,   
not to disturb his lover's sleep.  
In borrowed clothes,   
pacing,   
shivering in the warm breeze.  
From the bed,   
a deep stillness.  
What will he feel,   
now that passion is spent?  
Regret,   
shame,   
disgust?  
And then a stirring  
in the narrow bed   
sends him to perch,  
birdlike,   
seeking crumbs of hope.  
Eyelids flutter,  
open.  
Transfixed by brilliant blue  
and a joyous smile,   
he tumbles into reaching arms.  



End file.
